


The Carpe Felis Series: Missing Scenes

by audreyii_fic



Series: The Carpe Felis Series [2]
Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pregnancy, Romantic Comedy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyii_fic/pseuds/audreyii_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What we didn't see of Max and Alec during "The Carpe Felis Series".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under Your Command

_**A/N** : What we missed during [Carpe Felis](419587/chapters/699028). Takes place immediately after Alec arrives at Max's apartment._

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_**Under Your Command** _

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_take me now, baby, here as i am / hold me close, and try and understand / desire is hunger / is the fire i breathe  
10,000 Maniacs, "Because The Night"_

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**Round One - Max.**

 

I was going to burst to flames. I was going to explode. Alec was _leaving_ , and if he left, I was going to die, right here.

 

Original Cindy tried to drag me back into our apartment, but I paid her no attention. "Max, Boo, come on, you ain't thinkin' straight…" It would take more than OC to move me.

 

I could _see_ him, downstairs on the first floor, talking to Joshua. Not that I needed to see him to know he was there. I'd known the moment he'd walked into the building. I could sense him, as though a little Alec-radar had started beeping in my brain.

 

Well, not my brain. My brain wasn't doing much of the thinking right now. But hey, heat's a bitch.

 

Alec muttered something, then clapped Joshua on the shoulder and turned towards the door. I leaned out over the railing to get a better look. No! Where was he going?

 

" _Alec!"_

 

Wait, who just called out like an estrogen-soaked cat locked in a garage?

 

Oh. I guess that was me.

 

Alec froze mid-step, then turned and looked up. His face was dark and haunted, but his eyes burned and his stare was that of someone denied what they wanted for far, far too long. Then he smiled, a predatory smile that showed his teeth.

 

He looked like _exactly_ what I needed. I nearly came right there.

 

"Oh, shit," OC said.

 

Joshua stepped to the right, but Alec was running so fast that even my transgenic vision couldn't follow his movements. And _still_ , it wasn't fast enough. Didn't he understand the situation here? I was going to die!

 

Then he was there in front of me, grabbing my forearm and spinning me away from OC, who fell to the floor none too gently. And I didn't care that my best friend had just been manhandled. I really didn't. I was _finally_ going to get laid, and frankly, not a damn thing mattered beside that.

 

Oh, he smelled good. I pressed against Alec's back and ran my hands under the front of his shirt, feeling the hot skin stretched over his stomach. Hard and soft at the same time. I tasted his barcode. He was salty.

 

 _Why_ were we still in the hallway? Why was this man not naked already?

 

"Max, you said-" OC stood next to Joshua, trying to distract me. Sure, I had _said_ that I didn't want Alec to come by, because something like this would happen. But that was different. That was… oh, I don't know why it was different then, but it just was! I was stupid! I had thought this was a bad idea! How could I have thought that? Temporary insanity, clearly.

 

I tried to pull my thoughts together for an articulate response, but Alec beat me to it. " _Leave._ " Oh God, he was _growling_. If he wasn't inside me in the next two minutes, I'd have a heart attack.

 

Joshua gave me a measured look, far more cold and analytical than I'd ever seen him. Whatever he saw, it was apparently convincing – he took OC by the elbow and guided her down the stairs.

 

Alec didn't move, keeping his focus on the departing pair. I took the opportunity to do a little more exploring. Abs… nice. Pecs… nice. Shoulders… very nice. Keeping my left hand curled over his chest, I let my right dive a little farther south, to gauge his… um… level of interest. When my fingers brushed over his erection, Alec sucked in a breath as his hips gave a little spasmodic jerk.

 

Oh, yeah, he was interested.

 

Finally – _finally_ – the door slammed downstairs, and Alec glanced back at me, a knowing smirk on his face. He knew the kind of effect he was having on me.

 

Whatever. I knew the kind of effect _I_ was having on _him_. Which is why I knew he wouldn't object when I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back into my apartment.

 

And I was right. He didn't object. In fact, he came quite compliantly.

 

I pushed him into the living room, then closed the door and threw the locks. The last thing we needed was interruptions.

 

Door secured, I turned to face him, prepared to take the lead. That's the way things worked, the way things had always worked, ever since I turned thirteen and felt the heat for the first time and was drawn inexorably to the closest collection of adolescent males. The sixteen-year-old kid I grabbed in the school parking lot, barely old enough to shave, had probably never recovered from the experience. Though he certainly didn't complain at the time.

 

But Alec was no sixteen-year-old boy. He was no Eric, or Rafer. And from the look on his face, he clearly had his own ideas about how this was all going to go, and they didn't necessarily involve me taking charge.

 

In an instant I was pressed solidly against the door, Alec's entire weight against me, his mouth hungrily devouring mine. It struck me that this was our first kiss, and that most first kisses don't happen like this. How did my first kiss with Logan happen? I couldn't remember. And frankly, when Alec grabbed my shirt and ripped it open rather than break contact with my lips, I didn't _care_ that I couldn't remember.

 

Screw introspection. I reached between us and squeezed Alec's cock through his pants. Hard. Which made him groan against my mouth.

 

What an excellent reaction. I tried it again. Same result.

 

"Jesus, Max," he gasped, pushing my hand away. "Are you trying to kill me?"

 

"No," I replied, shrugging out of the remains of my shirt. "I'm trying to fuck you." I unclasped my bra and Alec helped pull it off. "Was that not clear?" My hands shook as I fumbled with the buttons on his cargos. The hell with it. One sharp pull tore the fabric, and his pants dropped around his feet. He wasn't wearing underwear. My mouth went dry.

 

Alec gave me that predatory smile of his. "Oh. Okay then. As long as we're on the same page." He dropped to his knees in front of me, ran the flat of his palms up my thighs, then grabbed my waistband and pulled my jeans past my hips. By the rarest of coincidences, I, too, was not wearing underwear. I mean, what are the odds?

 

Coherent thought vanished as Alec thrust two fingers deep inside me.

 

"Oh, God, you're wet," he groaned, his lips so close that I could feel the heat of his breath. His free hand came around to cup my ass as he leaned in, giving me an open-mouthed kiss. For a moment I felt his tongue slide over me, then he pulled back, even as his fingers continued to work, stroking and pressing. "I don't… Max, I…" Alec's eyes were closed, and I guess he was struggling with something, but I didn't know what. I was struggling to stay standing.

 

The ache in my abdomen wasn't a good feeling. It fucking _hurt_. "Alec, please," I sobbed. I was _begging_. " _Please_."

 

Alec's eyes flew open, and he looked up at me with undisguised incredulity. For a moment, he looked like _Alec_ , not some dark animal in a familiar body. He just looked like Alec looked when something caught him off guard, it really was Alec on his knees in front of me and somehow I amazed him, and it was all too confusing to handle.

 

I turned my face away, feeling something strong and upsetting, but I didn't want to analyze it. I couldn't deal with this, not right now. "Don't look at me." My voice shook. "Just fuck me. I'm burning up." I hated this, I hated myself, but I _had_ to have him or I wouldn't survive another minute, I was sure of it.

 

His fingers were suddenly gone, and I gasped in protest.

 

Alec stood up. With firm hands on my hips, he spun me around to face the door. I struggled the rest of the way out of my pants, distracted to madness by the way his fingers had come around to pluck at my nipples. His cock brushed against my back, and I almost wept in desperation.

 

"It's okay, Max. I won't look," Alec promised, before slamming all the way into me in one hot, wet thrust.

 

I knew I was ready, but that was all it took to push me over the edge. He held me tightly against his chest, one arm wrapped around my shoulders and another lifting my hips so that I stood on my toes, and he was pounding so hard that I thought I would come apart. Fire shot up my spine as I came, shaking, crying, screaming, moaning incoherently, begging Alec to, whatever he did, just don't, don't, _don't_ _stop_ …

 

Another few thrusts, then I felt Alec tense behind me. I leaned my head back and glimpsed up at him – no question, he was almost there – and I bit the side of his throat. He reacted with a deep, shuddering groan, his fingers tightening into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises. A few more ragged strokes, then he stilled and held deep inside me.

 

We were both trembling, trying to control our breathing.

 

Alec released me, and my thoughts shakily returned from wherever they'd fled. Was that _it_? Twenty seconds? Two X-5s, desperately rutting in heat, and the whole thing damn thing had lasted about _twenty seconds_?

 

I mean, sure, it was the best sex I'd ever had. Those twenty seconds were definitely better than two hours with any of my ex-boyfriends – not that I'd be telling Alec that, because he would never shut up. And yeah, I'd come so hard that I was lucky not to have had a stroke. But _still_ … Alec, _Alec_ of all people, had only lasted _twenty seconds_?

 

And I was still horny! As my body relaxed off of the orgasm, I felt the burning ache again. Twenty seconds wasn't going to cut it! I needed _more!_ What was I supposed to do now?

 

I shook myself. I couldn't _say_ any of these things out loud. Men were so fragile like that. I waited until I was sure my face wouldn't betray me, then turned away from the door (did I have splinters in my cheek? Fuck!) to see Alec regarding me with an unfamiliar expression, shedding his shirt. He was breathing deeply.

 

"Well, I guess-" I didn't get any farther. Alec pushed a hand into my hair, pulled me flush against him, and gave me a very long, very deep kiss. I could feel him stirring against my stomach, and by the time we both came up for air, he was already hard. I looked down at his erection, not bothering to hide my astonishment. Was this a transgenic trick?

 

Alec slid a hand along my back. "Again."

 

God bless Manticore. I leaned in for another kiss.

 

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_let's rearrange / i wish you were a stranger / i could disengage / just say that we agree and then never change  
The Fray, "Over My Head (Cable Car)"_

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**Round Four - Alec.**

 

"It occurs to me," I said, getting up off of Max and on to my knees, "that we might be more comfortable in bed."

 

Max raised herself to her elbows, face flushed. "But that's such a long way away," she pouted, lifting one long, naked leg and wrapping it over my hip, trying to pull me back down onto her.

 

I didn't fight very hard. Hell, if I was being honest with myself, I'd been trying to get a naked, flushed Max underneath me for months now. So I certainly wasn't going to ruin it by being picky about _where_ I had a naked, flushed Max underneath me. Especially now that she was finally relaxing and starting to really get into it, instead of being so wound up that she looked like she would vibrate right out of her own skin.

 

But… the living room floor was beginning to bruise my knees.

 

But… naked Max.

 

How is a man supposed to _survive_ conundrums like this?

 

"It's—" kiss "—not—" kiss "—that—" kiss "—far." I glanced towards the bedroom door. "Five, six feet." Kiss. "Maybe."

 

Max shifted her hips under mine, and suddenly, five or six feet seemed like five or six miles.

 

"That's too far," she said, dragging her fingernails down my back and wrapping her other leg around my waist. She gave me a heavy-lidded look, then brought her mouth close to my ear – a place where I was extremely sensitive, as she had noticed _far_ too quickly for my peace of mind. "I just can't wait that long," she breathed, before flicking her tongue across my earlobe.

 

"Yeah," I agreed, head swimming. It was the work of the moment to slide into her, since Max had conveniently adjusted her hips to exactly the right spot. She was wet, and tight, and positively on fire, and I moved with a long, slow, experimental stroke. Three orgasms since we started, I was finally able to take my time and not just come like some twelve-year-old with his first porno mag.

 

Max, however, was not. "Harder." She squirmed beneath me, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to start mindlessly pounding away. This was amazing – _she_ was amazing – it was all so mind-blowing, the best night of my life…

 

…but my knees seriously fucking hurt. And it was distracting me.

 

"Max," her name came out as a moan, "we have to move." I had rug burn so bad that I suspected I was bleeding.

 

"Yeah, we do," she said. And she used her heels against the small of my back to force my cock deeper. Oh, _God_ , this was good.

 

Ow. Knees. Ow. Must focus. Must focus. Somehow, even as I repeated that to myself, I found that my left hand had moved to stroke Max's breast, enjoying the way her whimpers were sending jolts through my body. Ow. Knees. Must focus. Her skin was _so_ smooth, she was all liquid heat and softness…

 

I slid an arm under her back, pressing her closer to me – and then I suddenly had an idea and stopped moving. My knees immediately ceased burning, but other parts of my body were notably less pleased.

 

"What? What are you doing? Why did you stop? Don't stop!" There was a definite note of panic in Max's voice. I shouldn't laugh at her, I really shouldn't, but she was just so _adorable_. 'Well-fucked' was a good look for her. Not that I could ever tell her that, because she would kill me on the spot.

 

I settled for kissing her on the nose. "Fear not, my lady," I drawled in a passable British accent, "for I have a _cunning plan_."

 

She blinked. "Huh?"

 

Oh, honestly. "Max, don't you _ever_ watch TV?" I wrapped my arms around her body and leaned back onto my injured knees, bringing her up with me. Soreness aside, I couldn't resist a short thrust, which made her gasp.

 

"Alec, I don't even _have_ a TV." She caught onto what I was doing, and kept her legs wrapped tightly around my waist as I stood up and stumbled toward the bedroom, still snug inside her. Hot damn, I was brilliant.

 

Except that from this position, Max had fantastic leverage – and she was beginning to grind against me, making those soft little whimpers again. It felt so good I was sure my legs would give out. "Max, stop," I pleaded. We were in her room now, only a few more steps to the bed—

 

–and then, with another sharp little grind of her hips, Max started to come. She wailed and arched her back, and I could _feel_ her muscles tightening around me, could _feel_ the wetness rushing. The hell with taking my time; I wasn't going to last more than a few seconds.

 

There was no help for it. Completely gracelessly, we fell into bed in a tangle. No time for rhythm or finesse – I just slammed into Max as hard as I could, desperately trying to hold her still as she writhed in her release. I grabbed onto her shoulders and sped up, feeling the rush of hormones burn through my body, she was _so fucking tight—_

 

With a creak and a series of snaps, the mattress dropped a foot onto the floor.

 

Max yelped in surprise, but nothing short of the apocalypse was going to stop me. I kept thrusting, just _fucking_ her, not looking down because I had promised I wouldn't but then Max pulled my head down to hers and kissed me hotly, running her tongue over my lower lip and it was all too much to take and I came, spurting into her with her legs wrapped around my hips, unable to breathe through her kisses but who needs to breathe, anyway?

 

For a minute, I thought I was going blind – everything was suddenly so bright. But then I realized it was just the sunrise peeking over the curtains. Morning had arrived.

 

Three hours had passed. It felt like a lifetime.

 

"Alec," said Max, somewhat muffled, "you're crushing me."

 

"Er. Sorry." I rolled off, and Max sat up, looking around. I wondered idly whether the tangles would ever come out of her hair. Maybe she would let me comb it.

 

"I think it's a loss," she said, checking over the side of the mattress to take stock of the bed frame. The position, conveniently enough, gave me a great view of her ass. I took deep breath, and her still potent pheromones flooded my senses. I usually have great stamina (I assume all X-5s do, but then, I never really asked any of my unit how many times they could get off in a twenty-four hour period) but this was above and beyond the usual call of duty. Had to be a side effect of her heat – a sort of hormonal override.

 

But hey, I wasn't complaining. And neither was Max, who glanced down at my half-mast cock with obvious approval. I tried not to gloat, but nothing gets past Max.

 

"I told you, no one likes a show-off, Alec," she smiled, stretching herself over me languorously.

 

I trailed my hand up the inside of her thigh, pausing to probe gently at her folds. "I beg to differ."

 

Max's breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered closed as my fingers traced circles. She was completely, heart-stoppingly beautiful, and I suddenly knew, as sure as I knew that the sun was rising over the curtains, that this could never last. I would never, never deserve her. And I wouldn't get to keep her.

 

But that was later, I told myself, flicking my thumb across her clit. Max's eyes snapped open, and with a quick movement, she had both my hands pinned over my head. This… this was now.

 

And for now, she was all mine.

 

She leaned forward and ran her lips along my jaw. "Again."

 

I was grinning like a fool, but who cares?

 

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_who needs sleep? / well, you're never gonna get it / who needs sleep? / tell me, what's that for?  
who needs sleep? / be happy with what you're getting / there's a guy who's been awake since the second world war  
Barenaked Ladies, "Who Needs Sleep?"_

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**Round Fifteen - Doug.**

 

_Ring, ring._

 

"Is _anyone_ going to get that?" I called, adding six sugar packets to my coffee.

 

 _Ring, ring_.

 

I took a sip from the Styrofoam cup, and nearly spat it back out. The fake shit that passed for coffee in Seattle these days was one small step below goat piss, but caffeine is caffeine and sugar is sugar and I needed both. "I am _not_ answering it!" I called toward the back. "I'm on break!"

 

I got an unintelligible yet clearly derogatory reply in Vietnamese.

 

_Ring, ring._

 

"Yeah, fuck you too, buddy," I muttered, setting aside my coffee. _Nothing_ was going right for me today, and it wasn't even midnight yet. We didn't close for another three hours. "Fine, I'll answer it. Not like I _needed a break_ or anything!" I yelled the last part for effect, and sidestepped as a tomato came flying at my head. "Missed!" I crowed, grabbing the phone. "Can't throw worth shit, motherfuckers!"

 

 _Ring, ri—_ "Hello, thank you for choosing Pizza Express, the greatest Sicilian pizza west of Rome," I recited mechanically. "This is Doug. How may I meet your pizza needs?"

 

" _Uh, what?"_

 

I sighed. "Would you like to try one of our specials? During this month, a large one topping deep crust pizza is half off when ordered after ten." Fucking specials. Someone was screaming at someone else back in the kitchen, so I covered my off ear with my hand.

 

" _I — hah, Max, don't_ do _that – a special… wait, what time is it?"_

 

I checked the wall clock. "It's eleven oh-eight, sir."

 

" _It's a little after eleven… (a pause) No, I don't know, actually. Hey, what day is it?"_

 

I blinked. That was a rare one. Probably calling from a meth lab. "It's Thursday, sir."

 

" _Thursday. Really."_

 

"Yes, sir."

 

" _Huh. Uh… we'll take the special, I guess."_

 

Finally. I scribbled on the pad by the phone. "Yes, sir. One large deep crust. And what would you like for your topping?"

 

There was a long pause. "… _huh? I'm sorry, what?"_

 

Definitely a meth lab. Goddamn it, I was sick of delivering to all these fucking junkies, they never tipped worth shit. "Your _topping_. Sir."

 

" _I… oh,_ God, _Max… ah, heh, an— anchovies."_

 

"And is this for delivery or pick up, sir?" Please, please, please, let him be picking up.

 

" _Deliv— delivery. Oh, God, yes, definitely delivery."_

 

Oh, of course. Of _course_ it would be for delivery. That was about in tune with the way my night from hell was going. "Yes, sir. The caller ID matched your address to apartment three-oh-four, at the corner of—"

 

" _Yeah, three-oh-four. That's us. (a rustle, and a giggle) You little… I have to go."_

 

"But sir, I—"

 

 _Click_. The fucker hung up on me.

 

"Goodbye, _sir_." I slammed the receiver down. "Fucking junkies. Hey," I yelled back into the kitchen, "can I get a large anchovy sometime, you know, this _century_? Or would that be too much to ask?"

 

I ducked before the onion hit me.

 

Forty-five minutes later, I was knocking on door 304. Sure, the pizza was _supposed_ to be delivered in half an hour, but it isn't my fault if the kitchen guys can't quit chain-smoking and waiving knives at each other long enough to bake a simple pizza.

 

I'd been knocking for five minutes, anyway, so technically, the delivery was only ten minutes late. It _also_ isn't my fault if people can't be bothered to answer the door for food _they ordered_. But the universe is full of stupid people, and apparently, every single one of them are destined to make an appearance in my life.

 

If it weren't for the fact that I hated fish, I'd have left and eaten the pizza myself. But I _did_ hate fish, and I needed the tip.

 

I banged my fist against the door. "Pizza Express!" I hollered. At least in this building (obviously full of squatters) I didn't have to worry about anyone phoning the cops because the delivery guy was being too loud.

 

"Just a sec!" a female voice called. _Finally_.

 

The door opened. And when I saw who it was, all the blood in the upper half of my body rushed south for the winter.

 

An angel stood in the doorway.

 

A petite… dark-eyed… round-breasted… swollen-lipped… _completely naked_ angel.

 

Well. My night had just taken a turn for the better.

 

"Hi," I said. My voice cracked. My voice hadn't cracked since I was fifteen.

 

The angel didn't seem to notice. She cocked her head to the side, then smiled slowly and wickedly. Goddamn, I was so hard my _teeth_ hurt. "Hell- _o_ ," she said, giving me a slow once-over.

 

I squeaked. The pizza tipped out of my grasp and fell into the apartment. The angel didn't pay attention. She was just watching me, like a cat watches a mouse.

 

"Max?" A voice called out worriedly, and then an equally naked man appeared in the doorway on the right. He glanced at the angel (Max?) then shifted his attention to me, a murderous expression on his face.

 

Oh, God. He was going to kill me. Not as a figure of speech, as in, _actually kill me_. And still, _still_ I could not tear my eyes away from the angel. She had the most perfect breasts I'd ever seen, and she looked like she needed to get laid so badly—

 

Faster than any human being had a right to move, the naked guy was between me and the angel, holding me two feet off the ground _by my neck_. I gasped for breath.

 

Okay, _this_ was more in line with how my night had been going. Fucking junkies. I kicked feebly.

 

Hopped-up naked junkie guy held my face very close to his. "Don't you even _look_ at her," he snarled, teeth bared.

 

I would have defended myself (something along the lines of, "How was I supposed to _not_ look?") but I couldn't breathe. So I did my best to nod.

 

With a growl, hopped-up naked junkie guy threw – and I mean _threw_ – me across the hall. My head slammed against the opposite wall and I slid to the ground. Birdies! There were birdies! And stars!

 

Dazed, I saw the guy advancing towards me, and I knew then that I was going to die. But oddly enough, the only thing I could think was, _I wish I had spit in more pizzas._

 

"Alec," the angel said. Nothing else, just the guy's name, or what I guessed was the guy's name. But he immediately forgot me and turned back towards her. Of course, if I'd been him, and the angel had called "Doug" in that tone of voice, I'd have forgotten all about killing me, too. I was _still_ hard, how sick was that?

 

Hopped-up naked junkie dude wrapped an arm around the angel, who kissed him so hard I was surprised he didn't melt on the spot. He lifted her onto the kitchen counter, and with his free hand, shut the apartment door. After a moment, I heard moans, squeals, and what sounded like crashing dishes.

 

Jesus.

 

I picked my sorry self off the floor, gingerly feeling the back of my head. I'd gotten a nice goose egg for my trouble, and they hadn't even paid for the pizza.

 

Fuck it all. I was going home. Someone else could deliver for the rest of the night.

 

I really needed a new job.

 

_**the end.** _

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_**A/N** : I was rereading Carpe Felis Series a few days ago, and realized… something was missing. What was it? Oh, right! The smut! I have no explanation for why I wasn't comfortable writing the smut the first time through, but am now. Just one of those weird little things, I guess._

 

_Doug is based off a guy I used to wait tables with. But I don't think anything like this ever happened to him. Though he actually does swear this much._


	2. Hard To Say

_**A/N** : What we missed during Pretend to Be Nice. Takes place before the birth._

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_**Hard To Say** _

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_it's hard to say what it is i see in you / wonder if i'll always be with you  
words can't say it / i can't do enough to prove / that it's all for you  
Blues Traveler, "All For You"_

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" _Please,_ don't do this," Max begged, grabbing my arm. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything. I will blow you _right here_ on the sidewalk, just _don't_ do this to me."

 

I stopped and faced her. We were standing in the rain outside of Jam Pony, and Max looked like a drowned rat… if drowned rats could look sexy. _I've_ never seen a sexy drowned rat myself, but then, they probably look good to each other. Well, if drowned rats weren't, you know, dead.

 

All of which was tangential at best. "Max, it's not like I _want_ to do this," I said. "But we have no choice. Unless you have a better idea."

 

She frowned. She stood next to her bicycle, her hair plastered to her head, her wet shirt clinging to the now-unmistakable swelling of her belly. We figured we had another three months to go, give or take. Assuming the gestation period of an X-5 was at all similar to that of normal humans. Which was a nice way of saying we had no fucking clue. "Forget better idea," I continued. "Do you have _any_ other idea? Because I'm open to suggestion."

 

"Okay, what about Mole?"

 

I raised an eyebrow.

 

"Fine!" She blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine! I give up! It's all pointless, anyway. He's going to say no."

 

"Then he'll say no, and one of us will have to quit," I replied evenly. She scowled. "So, do you want to come with me?"

 

"I'd sooner split a beer with Lydecker," Max said, rolling her eyes. "No, tell him… I don't know, tell him I'm having an emergency appendectomy and I'll be back when I get out of post-op."

 

"What are you really going to do?"

 

She shrugged. "Find something to eat. I'm starving."

 

"You're always starving."

 

I got a vicious glare for that one. "Yeah, well, _you_ try gestating a larva that keeps kicking you in the ribs and see what it does to _your_ appetite. Ass."

 

Wow. She _was_ nervous about all this. I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine. My bad. Go eat, and I'll take care of everything here."

 

"You better."

 

"You won't have to worry about a thing."

 

"Good." Max hopped back onto her bike. "And Alec…" she hesitated and focused intently on her handlebars. "Thanks," she said quietly.

 

I smiled, and squelched the urge to tell her to be careful. Instead, I warned, "Just don't go back to General Cho's."

 

She paused. "I wasn't going to," she said, completely unconvincingly.

 

"Uh-huh. Remember what happened last time?"

 

"Yes…"

 

"And the time before that?" I prodded.

 

"I _know_." Max sighed. "This is so whack. It _sounds_ so good. I think I could eat a mountain of kung pao."

 

"Right, you do that," I said. "But don't blame me when you're worshipping the porcelain goddess. Again."

 

She made a non-committal noise. To be fair, it wasn't Max's fault that she was craving food that invariably made her puke her guts out. But _I_ was the one that had to clean up each time.

 

Well, she was going to do what she was going to do, regardless of what I said. I'd more or less gotten used to _that_. "Okay, fine. Just remember – I warned you."

 

"Your reservations are duly noted," she said dryly. "Peace." Max kicked up the bike stand and pedaled away, weaving through the passing crowds.

 

Hell. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't help it. "And be careful!" I called. Max threw me a dirty look over her shoulder, and I knew that when we met up this evening, the first thing she would do is smack me. But I felt better anyway.

 

I rolled my own bike into the Jam Pony foyer and shook the rain out of my hair. I hadn't been kidding – if there had been any other idea that seemed plausible, I would have leapt all over it. But we couldn't quit our jobs, not if we wanted to keep our (legit) sector passes.

 

So _someone_ would have to watch the offspring while we were working.

 

Original Cindy and Sketchy were out; they worked the same hours we did. Joshua was seriously lacking in the necessary dexterity. Max tried to find someone named Kendra, but no one knew how to get in touch with her. I even, through gritted teeth, brought up Logan as a possibility – but Max refused to consider it, which made me a lot happier than I was willing to publicly admit. And that was more or less the end of the very, _very_ short list of people we trusted.

 

Which, as much as Max might hate to admit it, left us with exactly _one_ babysitting option.

 

"Hey, Rockstar!"

 

This was going to suck. A lot. "Hey, Normal," I said, faking cheeriness.

 

"Isn't this your day off?" Normal was at his usual station behind the desk, protective glass in place – though it protected him from spit wads more often than bullets. He flipped through a couple of records, tapping a pencil thoughtfully against a notebook. "Yeah, this is Tuesday. You're off, buddy. Hey, _no smoke breaks!"_ The last part was directed to a girl who stood just out of the rain, sucking down a cigarette. "I'm not paying you to get lung cancer, now _bip!"_ Smoker Chick shot Normal a dirty look, then dropped her cig on the floor and ground it under her heel.

 

Normal turned back to me and adjusted his headset. "No respect around here. None."

 

"I don't know how you put up with it," I said, shaking my head in sympathy. I needed Normal as buttered up as humanly possible. "I'm here to deliver a message from Max."

 

"Ah, yes, the Invisible Woman!" he said scornfully. "What, did she break her pinky toe? Did she catch the hanta virus again? Has she been arrested by secret government forces for crimes against the state?"

 

The last part wasn't anything I liked to think about. I laughed weakly. "No, no. She's, uh, having an emergency appendectomy."

 

Normal looked over the top of his glasses. "Is that what she told you?"

 

I shrugged.

 

"Because I remember her having her appendix out two years ago," he continued.

 

Oh, great. Thanks, Max.

 

Normal misinterpreted the look on my face. "Don't feel bad," he said reassuringly. "She's just a liar, like the rest of these slugs. Shame on her for making you do her dirty work."

 

I gritted my teeth against the sudden surge of anger. "I'm sure she had a good reason."

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He made a mark on the record book in front of him. "I'm sure. Just like she's had good reasons at least once a week for the last six months." Say what you wanted about Normal, but he could _do_ sarcasm.

 

But he wasn't very perceptive. Even though we hadn't told anyone, Normal was probably the _only_ one at Jam Pony who hadn't figured out that Max was pregnant, and well over half of the ones who knew had guessed _my_ role in the situation. In spite of the increasingly baggy clothes she wore, it wasn't exactly hard to see the belly. Max was getting pretty big.

 

Normal, however, had missed both the belly and the rumors. And now I was going to have to educate him. What a fun way to spend my day off.

 

"See… here's the thing, Ray," I started, leaning forward on the shelf. He opened a filing cabinet. "I kind of need a favor."

 

Dropping some papers into the stacked folders, Normal shrugged. "Anything."

 

Now that we'd come to it, I felt incredibly foolish. Oh well, nothing to do now but plunge ahead. "Ray… have you ever, uh," I swallowed, "babysat?"

 

Normal didn't miss a beat. "Of course."

 

I blinked. "Really?"

 

He didn't even look up from the filing cabinet. Was he really that used to bizarre non-sequitors? I looked around at the other employees of Jam Pony. Actually… he probably was.

 

"I have a lot of nieces and nephews," Normal replied, "and I used to keep an eye on them." Now _that_ was hard to picture. "Why?"

 

I leaned in farther. Here went nothing. "The thing is… I'm going to need a babysitter. During the day. Here. At Jam Pony." I pointed into the booth. "As in, right next to that desk. Do you think one of those playpen things would fit there?"

 

Okay, _now_ I had Normal's undivided attention. He took off his headset. " _You_ need a babysitter? Why?"

 

He really wasn't going to make this easy for me, was he? "Well," I said, "generally, when a person needs a babysitter, it's because there's… uh… a baby." Oh, God, did I really just say that out loud? It was a lot more _real_ when I said it out loud. There was going to be a _baby_. Max's baby. _My_ baby. In _three months._

 

I was starting to feel light-headed, so I lowered my head and took a deep breath. Okay. Not panicking.

 

Normal's eyes were wide. "You're having a baby?"

 

Spots were dancing in front of my eyes. I took another deep breath. "Well, not _me_ exactly. My…" My what? Girlfriend? Fuck buddy? Baby's momma? What? Damn it, Max! "…significant other."

 

Urk! Now I couldn't breathe. But it was because Normal had come out from the booth and enveloped me in a bear hug. "Congratulations!" he exclaimed, as the messengers around us stopped what they were doing (loafing, mostly) and stared.

 

I feebly patted Normal on the back. "Uh, thanks. Can you let me go?"

 

"Oh. Sure, buddy," he said, letting go instantly and trading the hug for a manly handshake. "Best wishes."

 

As awkward as this was, I was strangely touched. It was the first time anyone had expressed congratulations. Original Cindy, in contrast, had threatened to stick her boot so far up my ass that her heel would break my teeth. Normal's enthusiasm felt, well… normal. "Really, though, thanks." Shame that the enthusiasm was only going to last until—

 

"So, who's the lucky lady?" Normal asked.

 

Right. Must handle this _delicately._

 

But before I could formulate a diplomatic reply, Smoker Chick passed by and shot Normal another withering look. " _Max_ , you dipshit. _Everyone_ knows that." She stalked back to the lockers, shaking her head.

 

Great.

 

"You… and _Max?"_ Normal was flabbergasted.

 

"Uh…" I tried to come up with some way to salvage the situation, but really, there was nothing. "Yeah."

 

"So, you and Max drank too much one night and had a... tryst? And she got herself pregnant?" He shook his head in disgust. "She _would_ do something like that."

 

My anger came rushing back in a boiling torrent. "Do. _Not_. Talk about her like that," I bit out, seeing red. There were limits to what I would tolerate, and Normal had just reached them.

 

He realized it, too. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, then shook his head – apparently, this news was really fucking with his brain. On some level, I could sympathize. "I just don't get it. She's beautiful and everything, but… you could have any woman you wanted."

 

"I know." Hell, I'd already _had_ every woman I wanted. "But I love _her_."

 

Normal's mouth dropped open, and I realized what I had just said. Shit. I hadn't spoken those words to Max yet, had barely even admitted them to myself, and now I'd gone and blurted it out… to _Normal_.

 

This was not going at all like I had planned.

 

"Look," I said. "I need you to do this for me, Ray. I need you to help me out. Someone has to watch the kid during the day while we're out on runs, and there is _no one_ else that can do it. If you don't do this, I'll have to quit." Actually, Max and I would probably flip a coin to see who stayed home, but somehow, I didn't think that threat would have quite the same effect on Normal's decision making. "I _know_ you and Max don't get along," I continued, "but she's promised to make more of an effort." Or she would once I talked her into it. "So if you can just meet me halfway here, I think we can all get along. Really." Time for the big guns. I gave Normal my best puppy-dog look. "Please. I love working here. I don't want to quit. Can you help us out?"

 

Max owed me _big_ for this one.

 

Normal wavered for a moment, then threw his hands up in the air. "All right, all right. But only for _you_ ," he emphasized, pointing a finger at my chest. "I'm not watching anyone else's kids. This is a place of business, not a daycare."

 

Oh, thank God. I heaved a sigh of relief and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks, Ray. You won't regret this, I swear."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, but he looked slightly mollified. "Well, I can't afford to lose my best delivery boy. You're the only one with any work ethic in this place."

 

My cell phone rang. I grabbed it off my belt and checked the ID. Max. "Hey, what's up?"

 

" _Alec… help."_

 

I groaned. "You didn't."

 

" _I didn't mean to! I just rode by General Cho's, and it smelled so good, and I was_ so _hungry…"_

 

"I _told_ you this was going to happen."

 

" _Just shut up and come get me. I can't pedal."_

 

"I'll be there in five," I promised. "Don't barf anymore."

 

" _Oh, well, now that you've told me_ not _to, I'll be sure to stop."_ Max hung up on me.

 

I closed my phone. "Sorry, Normal, I've got to run."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Max finished with her appendectomy?"

 

"Uh… yeah," I said. Right.

 

Normal gave me a sideways look, then put his headset back on. "Well. No need for her to rush back today. You know, post-op and everything. But she better be back tomorrow, and you can tell her that."

 

Heh. I smiled. "Sure thing, Ray."

 

"Yeah." Normal turned away as I rolled my bike outside. I could hear him yelling behind me, "What are you all looking at? Get back to work! Bip bip bip!"

 

 

_**the end.** _

_**  
**_

* * *

 

_**A/N** : I love Normal. I make no apologies._


	3. Meds

_**A/N** : What we missed during Pretend to Be Nice. Takes place one month after the missing scene Hard To Say._

_  
_

* * *

 

_**Meds** _

_**  
**_

* * *

 

_and the sex and the drugs and the complications / (baby, did you forget to take your meds?)  
Placebo, "Meds"_

_  
_

* * *

 

"Honey, I'm home," I called sarcastically, kicking the apartment door shut behind me.

 

No response. I set the groceries down my – ugh, _our_ – kitchen counter. "I got more Rocky Road." I put the two-gallon tub in the freezer, since the _one-_ gallon tub had been consumed in less than a day last time. "And more pork rinds." Max was eating everything that wasn't nailed down these days, even though she'd puke it back up an hour later (and what did she expect, really, when she put pork rinds on ice cream? Even I knew better than that). And she was puking in _my_ bathroom, which was now _our_ bathroom.

 

Domesticity was seriously unsettling.

 

Still, she'd only been living here for a few weeks. This sort of thing takes getting used to, right? Besides, it wasn't like she'd put doilies on everything. And this meant she was in my bed every night (well, every night that she could sleep), which I wasn't going to be objecting to any time this century. I was willing to put up with a lot to have Max in my bed every night. Including the unwarranted consumption of _my_ ice cream, and demands that I fetch more at all hours of the night.

 

Only two months left to go. Maybe then the midnight ice cream runs would come to an end. "Hey, Max?" Where was she, anyway?

 

A low moan came from the bathroom.

 

I sighed. "You better not have eaten those Oreos. I told you, they were here when I moved in." It took a minute to pick my way past the boxes – we were going to unpack. Sometime soon. Really. "If you ate them and you die, it's all on—" I opened the bathroom door, and my voice died in my throat.

 

Max was lying on the bathroom floor (no small feat, considering how big her stomach was), curving her body against violent tremors. Her pale face dripped sweat, and her eyes were unfocused.

 

My heart stopped.

 

"Max? Max, can you hear me?" I fell to my knees beside her, touching her cheek. Her skin was icy. "Jesus, Max, talk to me. Say something!"

 

She swallowed, brow knitting in pain. "I didn't eat the Oreos. Jerk."

 

My first instinct was to sob in relief – if she could still badmouth me, she was at least still cognizant – but sobbing wouldn't help the situation all that much. "What's going on? What happened?"

 

"Seizures," she said faintly.

 

"Yeah, I picked up on that." She was white as a sheet. I gathered Max off the floor and into my lap, trying to hold her shaking frame steady.

 

"I need milk," she murmured, her hands fisting into my shirt.

 

"Huh?" I was tempted to move her to the bedroom, but I wasn't sure I could get her past the boxes if she was still seizing. _Why_ hadn't we unpacked?

 

"Tryptophan. It has tryptophan." She took a deep breath, and a rough tremor passed to jerky aftershocks. "I used to keep supplements, but I haven't needed them since Manticore. I'm out."

 

I blinked. "Wait, this has happened before?"

 

"Used to. All the time."

 

Wait, _all the time?_ "Why didn't you _tell_ me?" I said fiercely, angrier than I could remember being in a long time. "I could have kept supplements here. Hell, I could have kept _milk_. We don't have any. What were you _thinking?_ "

 

"I thought it was fixed." She sounded exhausted. Her sweat was soaking through my clothes, but her skin was still icy cold.

 

I forced myself to calm down. Yelling at her was stupid, but this was… I'd never seen Max look weak, never. It was fucking terrifying. "Okay. Okay, well, apparently, it's not fixed, and we will have a long discussion about that later."

 

"Bite me. It's my body."

 

Good girl. "Yeah, and I happen to _like_ that body an awful lot, so I'd hate to see anything happen to it," I shot back. "Where do you get tryptophan?"

 

"There's a deal—" Max's response was cut off as another seizure jerked through her body. I held her as tight as I dared, but I could feel her teeth clacking together.

 

 _Please._ I'd never prayed before in my life, but there's a first time for everything. _Please, don't let her die on my bathroom floor. I'll do anything._

 

The next thirty seconds felt like an hour – the most horrible hour of my life – but her body slowed down into jerky aftershocks again. "It hurts," she groaned.

 

"I know, baby, I know." I had to _do_ something.

 

"No, I mean, it _hurts._ " She moved my left arm from her shoulder down to her swollen stomach. I could feel the frantic movement inside. And I could feel the muscles on the outside, Max's muscles, tense and rock-solid. "It's too soon. It's too soon, isn't it?" she asked, searching my face.

 

It took every ounce of Manticore training I had to keep a lid on my emotions. I couldn't be scared right now. Max needed me. "It'll be fine, okay?" I said, reaching for a towel from under the sink. "It's all going to be fine. I promise." I wiped the sweat off her forehead. Battle was way less frightening than this.

 

She glared at me, which I found heartening. "You're a really shitty liar, Alec." A trickle of blood was running out of her mouth. I wiped that away, too.

 

"Yeah. Good thing I'm devastatingly handsome," I replied.

 

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. But then, I'm not a miracle worker. "Smartass." Her breath hissed through clenched teeth as she twitched spasmodically.

 

There was no help for it. "Max, you need a doctor."

 

"Uh-huh." She spat. The red stood out brightly against the tile floor. "You'll explain this how, exactly?"

 

"I'll make something up." I slid my arm under the crook of her legs, keeping the other against her back.

 

"And the doctor will believe you?"

 

I smirked. "Well, that's where the devastatingly handsome part comes in."

 

"No." Her eyes closed, and as I stood up, keeping her cradled against my chest, I could hear her keening under her breath.

 

"This one isn't up for review, Max," I said firmly. Maneuvering a semi-conscious pregnant woman out of a tiny bathroom wasn't something I'd learned at Manticore, but as I angled through the door and picked my way over the boxes, I found it wasn't dissimilar to carrying a wounded soldier out of a boggy swamp – and I _did_ have training in that. "You need help. Someone who knows what he's doing."

 

"I'll be fine." I might've been more inclined to believe her if she hadn't been whimpering as she spoke.

 

I made it to the bedroom without dropping her and settled her on the mattress. "No doctors," Max gasped, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. "They'll cut me up. They'll take the baby away to be a lab rat." Her voice was tinged with panic. "We can't let them."

 

"It won't happen," I said, kissing her forehead. "I'll kill them if they try." And I would. In an instant. Without pausing to plan, or think, or breathe.

 

That was a little scary in and of itself.

 

"No doctors," she muttered. Her eyes closed.

 

"Max? Hey, look at me, look at me." I tapped her cheek gently, and her lashes fluttered. "Max." She was right about the doctors, but… "Max, I don't know what to do." I ran a hand over her belly – still those thrashing movements inside, the contracting muscles. She was right, it had to be too soon. This was way beyond my meager medic training. "Max?" My voice broke. "Please, baby, talk to me."

 

No response. But her body – her suddenly, frighteningly fragile body – kept shaking. I kissed her forehead again, then turned and made my way through the living room, kicking boxes aside. I'd left my stuff in the kitchen.

 

At least if she was unconscious, she wouldn't see me doing what I knew had to be done. I grabbed my cell and punched in the number.

 

_Ring._

 

_Ring._

 

 _Ring._ I closed my eyes and fought the urge to throw the phone against the wall. "Pick up, goddamn it."

 

A sleepy voice came on the other line. Finally. _"Hello?"_

 

"Logan, it's Alec." My free hand closed into a fist. "I need your help."

 

* * *

 

 _did you love me only in my head?_ _/ things you said and did to me / seemed to come so easily / the love i thought i'd won you give for free  
Gin Blossoms, "Found Out About You"_

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* * *

 

"Sir, you're going to have to step outside." The nurse was a kind, grandmotherly type, but she needed to get out of my way or I'd knock her to the floor.

 

I stood my ground, but my eyes slid past her to Max, who looked small and pale under the ER florescent lights. A team – a fucking _team_ – of doctors was working on her. Touching her. She would hate that they were touching her. Or she would if she were awake.

 

"Sir," the nurse said again, gently.

 

"I have to stay with her," I choked out.

 

The nurse nodded, her brow knitting together in concern, as though she knew exactly what I was going through. She knew _nothing_ about what I was going through. "I understand, but the doctors need to work. We're going to take good care of her, sir, but you're going to have to wait outside. You'll be able to see her. Like your friend."

 

I glanced over at the waiting area. Logan stood in front of the large plate glass window, watching the doctors do their work. I turned back to the nurse. "We're not friends," I said.

 

A couple of beaten plastic chairs were set up opposite the window, and I walked over and collapsed into one, leaning my head back against the wall.

 

"She's very pale," Logan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

I thought about punching him in the head. The idea had a certain charm to it. "So, who the hell are all those people working on her? I thought you understood the need to keep this _quiet_."

 

Logan gave me a 'don't be paranoid' look. Yep, punching him in the head would really take the edge off right around now. "These are Doctor Carr's men. I trust him with my life."

 

"I could care less," I snapped. "Do you trust him with _Max's_ life?"

 

Logan opened his mouth, then closed it again and looked away.

 

Sitting wasn't helping. I stood up again and walked to the window, watched them feed a plastic tube into Max's nose. "Does Doctor Carr know to give her tryptophan?"

 

"I mentioned that when I called him, yes." Logan shook his head, looking sad and drawn and frightened. "But I don't know how much that will help. The last time she had seizures without getting her pills, she came very close to death."

 

"Thanks," I said, sickened. "That helps."

 

"Er. Sorry." He looked back at Max, and I saw him swallow uncomfortably when a nurse peeled back the sheet to reveal her obviously pregnant belly. I might've straightened my back ever so slightly. "Does she…" He swallowed again. "Who's her obstetrician? He or she should probably be here."

 

"She doesn't have one."

 

Logan blinked. "She doesn't _have one_?"

 

I gritted my teeth. "Jam Pony doesn't have the most fabulous benefits package, what can I say." I stared straight ahead, pointedly ignoring the incredulous look Logan was giving me. I didn't need this crap right now.

 

Apparently, though, Eyes Only couldn't take a hint. "Why the hell weren't you taking her to a doctor? With her medical history—"

 

"Oh, I don't know." I faced him, and I barely recognized the haggard man reflected in his glasses as myself. "Maybe because she _didn't want to go_. Max doesn't like to leave a paper trail." Something in me approached a boiling point. "But I suppose I should have just _shamed_ her into doing whatever I wanted, you know? Made her feel immoral and inferior until she saw things my way? That's the way to deal with Max, right?" I was in Logan's face now. Maybe he'd take a swing, and I could do something about all this guilt and helplessness. Like imprint it on his nose with my fist.

 

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Logan flushed with anger.

 

I paused – and thought about how furious Max would be if she woke up and saw Logan with a black eye. I'd never hear the end of it.

 

If she woke up.

 

Logan's face swam in front of my eyes. Shit.

 

"Uh, hey," he said, surprised, "I didn't mean… I'm sorry." He patted me on the shoulder.

 

I knocked his hand away, hastily backing up. "Whatever." Oh, God. A 'feelings' moment with Logan? Spare me. I'd rather make out with Normal.

 

The awkwardness, blessedly, was broken up by the arrival of a timid looking man in scrubs. "Mr. Cale?"

 

Logan stepped forward, but I put my hand out first. "I'm Alec McDowell," I interrupted. I'd be damned if Logan was going to take the lead here.

 

"Doctor Carr," the man replied, glancing at Logan before shaking my hand. "You're the father?"

 

"Yeah, that's me." I don't admit to feeling a little glow of satisfaction when Logan winced. Seriously. I admit nothing.

 

"Okay." Carr opened a file and skimmed over it. "Well, you're not listed here as Max's next of kin, so legally we're not supposed to share her medical data…"

 

I glared at him.

 

"…but, given the nature of the situation," he added hastily, "I'll be overlooking that minor detail. We're not exactly doing everything by the book here, anyway."

 

"Is Max going to be all right, Doctor Carr?" Logan interrupted.

 

Carr nodded. "She's still unconscious because of the sedatives, but the tryptophan halted the seizures almost instantly. I'd like to run some tests once she's awake, to check for any possible neural damage, but she should be all right." I exhaled. Max was going to be okay. I hadn't been called a rat bastard for the last time. I almost teared up again, but fear of another Logan-comfort moment stopped that impulse dead in its tracks. "I think the reemergence of the deficiency may be a result of the nutrient drain of the third trimester. Is she taking prenatal vitamins?"

 

"No," I said sourly, as Logan glared at me pointedly.

 

"Ah." Carr glanced between the two of us again. "Anyway, although the seizures have stopped, they've triggered premature labor. I need to ask you some questions, so we can determine what to do next. We need a more complete history of the pregnancy."

 

I winced, wanting to rattle off my name, rank, and serial number. How dare a complete stranger ask us whatever questions he liked about our lives, our kid? We weren't in Manticore anymore, I didn't have to tell anyone anything, and who knew where all that information could wind up. Max would pitch a fit when she found out about this.

 

"Max appears to be in her early third trimester," he continued. "What's the baby's due date?"

 

Well, that one I could answer truthfully. "I don't know."

 

Carr and Logan gave me odd looks. "You don't know?" Logan repeated.

 

I rolled my eyes. "Do _you_ know the normal gestation period of a military-grade genetic experiment, Logan? Because _I_ sure as hell don't."

 

"She's not—" he started, voice rising, but he broke off when Carr raised his hand.

 

"Fair enough," Carr interrupted placidly. "When was the conception?"

 

– _Max's body slammed against the door, her hands in my hair and her mouth on mine, her skin burning against my fingers and her smell filling my head –_

 

I smiled. "February first." – " _Hey, what day is it?_ " – "Uh, give or take a couple of days," I amended. "We think."

 

"You aren't sure?" Carr asked.

 

"She was in heat in February." I shrugged, feeling really, really uncomfortable. The amount I didn't know about this whole pregnancy thing wasn't something I liked to dwell on. It made me nervous. "That seemed like it made the most sense."

 

"Okay." Carr made a note. "That's about thirty-one weeks. If we assume that the common pregnancy length of, uh, a 'military-grade genetic experiment' is nine months, then she's definitely not ready to give birth. Even if the baby survived, the risks of an underdeveloped respiratory system and brain damage are almost certain at this level of prematurity. I'd like your permission to administer the necessary medications to stop the labor."

 

My head was spinning. "Will that work?"

 

Carr looked at me sympathetically. Why was everyone doing that? "Her biochemistry is very different. We really won't know until we try… but the sooner we administer the drugs, the higher the chance of success."

 

"Well, then, go do it!" Why the hell were we even talking about this?

 

"As soon as you sign here." He held out a legal document. I took about two seconds to read it – basic hospital liability crap, but I committed the whole thing to memory anyway, just in case – and scribbled my name on the line. "Okay then," he said, tucking the paper back into the folder. "It'll take an hour or so before we can be sure of the effects, but I'll keep you up to date."

 

"You do that," I said, my chest tight. Carr patted me on the shoulder (what was with all the unnecessary touching? Max would never put up with this crap) and whisked back into the emergency room. I watched him give orders to the medical staff, and a nurse injected a clear liquid into Max's IV. I put a hand up to the glass of the window.

 

"You slept with her while she was in heat." Logan held himself stiffly, and his robotic leg contraption whirred and clicked in protest.

 

I really wasn't in the mood for this crap. "Yeah, Logan," I replied, keeping my eyes on Max. Her skin was almost translucent, and her eyes moved rapidly beneath the lids. I wanted to gather her up and take her home. "I fucked her brains out for two days straight. It was fantastic, too. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

 

He made a noise of disgust. "I knew you were low, Alec, but taking advantage of her when she's out of her mind like that…"

 

"Well, it wasn't like _you_ could do anything about it," I muttered.

 

"Only because I'd _die_ if I touched her!" A passing nurse glared at us and held a finger up to her lips. Logan flinched, but his voice lowered. "If it hadn't been for the virus," he hissed, "she would have come to _me_ when she was… like that. Not you."

 

The look on my face made Logan back up a couple of steps. He thought he knew Max – but he was wrong. I knew he was wrong. And I could prove it.

 

"So, did she?" I ground out.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Max goes into heat every six months or so, right? And you two knew each other, oh… about a year before I came along." Logan looked thunderous, knowing where I was going with this line of reasoning, but that was just too damn bad. He asked for this conversation, and he was going to get it. In spades.

 

"She must have gotten 'like that' at least once during the year, before the virus," I continued, dripping with disdain. "Did she come to you then? Did she ask you to take care of her? Did she beg you to fuck her?"

 

His silence told me everything I needed to know.

 

Not that I'd really thought Max had, anyway. She was wild when her hormones got the better of her – I thought it was an amazing thing to behold, but Logan would have wheeled screaming into the night. "Thought so."

 

There was a long pause, then – "We weren't like that." Logan said those words in the same tone Max had used, once upon a time. Like he was lost.

 

"Yeah." I turned back to the window. If I focused carefully enough, I could hear Max's level, steady breathing, even from here. "Well, we are."

 

Behind me, Logan's exoskeleton clicked as he sank into one of the plastic chairs. The nurses scurried along the hallway in rubber-soled shoes, and a wall clock ticked off the passing seconds. I tuned them all out. It was more important to hear Max breathe.

 

We waited.

 

* * *

 

_oh, what do I care for my house and my land? / aye, what do I care for money, oh?  
and what do I care for my only wedded lord / when I can have my raggle taggle gypsy, oh?  
The Raggle Taggle Gypsy (Traditional)_

_  
_

* * *

 

"Alec?"

 

I jerked upright in my seat, cursing under my breath as my muscles protested. My neck was killing me. "Mornin', Max. How are you feeling?"

 

"Pretty good, I guess," she said, looking around the room. "Where am I?"

 

"Hospital room." I rubbed my neck. Ow. Catnapping in hospital chairs was a lot harder than it looked.

 

She blinked. "What?"

 

"They moved you here from the ER a few hours ago." And in the process, I had managed to slip a C-note to the right orderly. After that, no one bothered me about waiting at Max's bedside.

 

The glare Max skewered me with was vicious. "Didn't I tell you _no doctors_? Was I not speaking English? Or Spanish, or Chinese, or any of the other twenty languages you know?"

 

Whew. If she was this furious, she had to be recovering. I'd never been so grateful to be chewed out. "Well, you were unconscious, so it was one of the rare situations where I felt that the medical establishment might be able to help." I opted not to mention the long hours spent waiting for the ambulance and sitting in the ER, stifling panic as doctors inserted IVs, mentally bargaining with God, promising everything I had if she would just live. "I made a decision. Deal."

 

She scowled at me, just like I knew she would. I was feeling more cheerful by the minute. "Don't you dare go all he-man on me. I told you I _didn't want_ any doctors. I bet they've got a blood sample now... Tell me you at least used a fake name."

 

I looked away. Oops.

 

Max groaned. "Oh, great." She flopped back on the bed.

 

"You passed out, Max," I said, wanting her to understand. "You were having contractions. I didn't know what else to do."

 

"You could have— wait, what?" In an instant, Max's hands were pressed against her belly, the newfound color draining out of her cheeks. I mentally kicked myself. "Is everything—"

 

"It's fine," I interrupted quickly, reaching out and stilling her hands. "Everything's fine. They stopped the labor. It's all okay."

 

"It's all okay," she repeated.

 

"Breathe," I instructed.

 

"Right."

 

Max's fingers wove through mine, squeezing tightly as she took a deep breath. Unable to resist, I reached up with my free hand and stroked her hair, brushing my thumb across her cheek. Her eyes closed.

 

I could do it. I could tell her right now. I'd been waiting for the right time, the right moment to share my biggest, darkest secret – how I'd been hopelessly smitten ever since she kicked me in the chest back at Manticore. How if she was with me, I was sure I could face whatever trials the world had planned for us, up to and including parenthood. How I loved her, had loved her for what felt like forever now, and hadn't said anything for fear of screwing it all up, like I screw everything up.

 

I could have lost her without ever saying it.

 

"Yo, you still with me?" Max said curiously.

 

No more waiting. I cleared my throat. "About that…"

 

"Hey, Alec?" Logan opened the door and poked in his stupid, glasses-wearing, smug, superior, unwanted, _interrupting_ head. Max released my hand abruptly. "Doctor Carr wants—" He broke off, staring shamelessly. "Oh, you're awake."

 

Why the hell hadn't I punched him when I had the chance? He would still be out cold. "Yes. We all stand in awe of your brilliant deductive abilities, Logan," I managed through gritted teeth.

 

Max paled again, glancing back and forth between us. "Logan?" Oh, great, there it was, the 'Little-Girl-Lost' tone she only ever got around Eyes Only and his morally superior aura of holiness.

 

He smiled softly at her. "Hi, Max." They locked gazes.

 

I was going to throw up.

 

Possibly Max noticed, because she broke off the eye-caressing to look back at me. Right, me, Alec, just the father of her child, her live-in lover, her not-a-boyfriend. Don't mind me at all. "Alec…"

 

"Right. I'll be outside," I snapped. I strode out of the room as quickly as I could without giving away my transgenic nature, brushed past Logan, and slammed the door behind me. Childish, maybe, but _fuck_ I was frustrated. That pompous, self-righteous, _intruding…_

 

I turned to stalk down the hall, and ran right into Doctor Carr. "Uh, sorry."

 

He straightened his files, unperturbed. "No problem." My ass. My life was nothing but problems. "Has she regained consciousness?"

 

"Yeah, a few minutes ago," I said.

 

Carr looked from me to the door, then back at me. "Okay. That was quick. Her metabolism must break down sedatives at a very high rate of speed."

 

"Her metabolism breaks down _everything_ at a high rate of speed. You should see her with a pitcher of beer."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Really. Anyway… I'll need to run a few more tests, but then she'll be free to go. She'll just need to remain on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy."

 

Max would never agree to more tests. If I could get Logan out of the room, though, we could probably sneak out before… wait a minute. "Bed rest?" I echoed. "What do you mean, bed rest?"

 

"At this point, the chance of restarting early labor is, unfortunately, very high. Miss Guevara will need to remain inactive for at least the next six weeks… again, assuming that a forty week gestation is standard," Carr added. "It will reduce her chances of preterm delivery."

 

I ran a hand through my hair. Well, this was just great. "When you say 'inactive'…"

 

"…in bed, or on the couch, twenty-four hours a day."

 

"You're kidding," I said, stunned.

 

Carr shook his head. "You can get a second opinion from the maternity ward, but I assure you—"

 

"No, no," I interrupted hastily. The last thing I wanted to do was bring _more_ doctors into this. "I believe you, I just… _you_ have to tell Max." Preferably after I was a good six or seven blocks away. "She, uh… she won't like this."

 

He nodded, as though he understood. "A lot of women have difficulty with that level of inactivity. I can give her some pamphlets."

 

Was he kidding? "Uh, thanks." Yeah, pamphlets were really going to help when he told Max that she had to stay in bed for _two months_. This would be desperately funny if she wasn't going to gut him like a fish when she found out. _Pamphlets._ Jesus.

 

"It isn't _any of your business!"_ a furious female voice shouted suddenly, interrupting the momentary quiet. A furious female voice I knew very well.

 

Carr and I both looked simultaneously at the closed door to Max's room.

 

Another voice. A male one. "If you would just listen to _reason—_ "

 

" _What?_ "

 

Okay, that was enough. I opened the door and stepped into the room, leaving a rather surprised Doctor Carr in the hall. "Hey, guys?" I said lightly.

 

If looks could kill, I'd be a little smoking spot on the floor. Good thing I was used to it.

 

"The morgue called," I continued. "Apparently, the patients down there are complaining about all the noise." I let the door close and moved to stand between Max and Logan. "So if we could keep this down to a dull roar, that's be really great. Okay?"

 

"Excuse me," Logan sputtered, glaring daggers, "this was a _private_ conversation."

 

"Yep," I replied, meeting his furious gaze with a steely one of my own. "It was. Now it's not."

 

"And this conversation is over, anyway," Max said. If she had been speaking to _me_ in that tone, I would have shut my mouth and backed away.

 

Logan, however, was either very brave or suicidally stupid. I could venture a guess as to which. "No, it isn't." He looked past me, back to Max. "Come home with me," he said gently. "You know I can take care of you, you and the baby. Let me help."

 

For a minute, it felt like time had stopped. I'd promised anything, everything to keep her alive. Was this the price the universe was asking from me? Instead of watching her die, would I have to watch her leave with Logan?

 

Max caught my eye. _Say no,_ I urged her silently. _Please, say no._

 

Something in her expression was briefly horrified, but it smoothed over into her patented Manticore mask again almost instantly. No one hid her emotions better than Max. "I don't need your help, Logan," she said calmly, looking back at him. "We're done here."

 

"But—"

 

"We're _done_." Her voice was firm.

 

Logan's face fell.

 

I stepped closer to Max's bed, cutting her off from his gaze. "Thanks for getting us in touch with Doctor Carr. I won't forget it," I said. And I meant it. "But you need to leave now." I meant that part too.

 

This time, he didn't argue.

 

We didn't speak until I could no longer hear Logan's footsteps in the hallway. "I don't know why we don't all hang out together more often," I quipped, hoping I didn't look as shaky as I felt.

 

"Shut up." Max looked down, twisting the sheets in her fingers. "You thought I was going to go with him, didn't you?"

 

Oh. So she _had_ caught that. Eep. "Um, I didn't exactly—"

 

"Alec."

 

I swallowed. "Yes."

 

Max reached out and took my hand. She had such small hands. "Well, that was dumb."

 

I couldn't look up at her. "I love you," I blurted out.

 

Her grip tightened on my fingers, and I ran my thumb over her wrist. "You are _such_ an idiot," she whispered tenderly. I knew what she meant.

 

There was an extremely hesitant knock on the door. I closed my eyes. "Not even five minute's peace, the fuckers…"

 

Max suppressed a smile, but I could see the corner of her lip twitching. "Come in."

 

Doctor Carr stepped into the room, looking nervous. I couldn't really blame him. "Good to see you awake," he said, as though he hadn't just overheard her screaming at one of the most respected citizens in Seattle. "How are you feeling?"

 

"I'm great. Fantastic. Which is why I'm leaving now," Max said, starting to get out of bed.

 

"Uh, well, first, we've got to go over a few things about the rest of your pregnancy," Carr said, coming forward. "You really should lay back until we get a wheelchair for you."

 

I started quietly backing out of the room.

 

"I don't need a wheelchair," Max said, peeved. "I just need to go home. I've got work in a couple of hours."

 

"Well, yes, about that…" I shut the door, cutting off the rest of Carr's sentence, and walked quickly towards the elevator. Best to put a little bit of distance between me and Max. She probably needed a soda or something, anyway. Or a candy bar. Or something. Where was that vending machine?

 

Her shriek followed me down the hall. "What do you mean, _bed rest?_ "

 

 

_**the end.** _

_**  
**_

* * *

 

_**A/N** : February first is the original airdate of Borrowed Time, which is why Alec lists it as the conception date. Give or take a few days._

 

_This wound up being a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but that happens sometimes. Alec had a lot to say. It's also unusually emotional for the Carpe Felis Series, but again, that happens sometimes. And Logan simply wasn't going to go quietly into the night. I personally felt a little bad for him, but Alec wasn't nearly so forgiving._


End file.
